War and Hope

War poem: Dreamers written by  Siegfried Sassoon

Hope poem: There will come soft rains by Sara Teasdale

I believe that the poem "There will come soft rains" would be the most relevant today because war is sorta depressing and as youth we like to know that everything around us is okay and that we have nothing to worry about. Hope has a much larger meaning to us over war. Even though both poems are about hurting man kind, "There will come soft rains" seems more joyful.

 

This video relates to robins in the poem by Sara Teasdale

Tiger!

Tiger, not only a cat with a stripped coat but also posses beauty and wisdom

                            The wheel invention...didn't take brainiacs

people and places

 

Vancouver Lights 

Earle Birney

Born in Creston B.C

About me the night       moonless      wimples the mountains
wraps ocean      land      air      and mounting
sucks at the stars      The city      throbbing below
webs the sable peninsula      The golden
strands overleap the seajet      by bridge and buoy
vault the shears of the inlet      climb the woods
toward me      falter      and halt      Across to the firefly
haze of a ship on the gulps erased horizon
roll the lambent spokes of a lighthouse

Through the feckless years we have come to the time
when to look on this quilt of lamps is a troubling delight
Welling from Europe's bog      through Africa flowing
and Asia      drowning the lonely lumes on the oceans
tiding up over Halifax      now to this winking
outpost comes flooding the primal ink

On this mountain's brutish forehead with terror of space
I stir      of the changeless night and the stark ranges
of nothing      pulsing down from beyond and between
the fragile planets      We are a spark beleaguered
by darkness      this twinkle we make in a corner of emptiness
how shall we utter our fear that the black Experimentress
will never in the range of her microscope find it?      Our Phoebus
himself is a bubble that dries on Her slide      while the Nubian
wears for an evening's whim a necklace of nebulae

Yet we must speak      we the unique glowworms
Out of the waters and rocks of our little world
we conjured these flames      hooped these sparks
by our will      From blankness and cold we fashioned stars
to our size      and signalled Aldebaran
This must we say      whoever may be to hear us
if murk devour      and none weave again in gossamer:

                                                These rays were ours
we made and unmade them      Not the shudder of continents
doused us      the moon's passion      nor crash of comets
In the fathomless heat of our dwarfdom      our dream's combustion
we contrived the power      the blast that snuffed us
No one bound Prometheus      Himself he chained
and consumed his own bright liver      O stranger
Plutonian      descendant      or beast in the stretching night--
there was light

Love and Loneliness

 

 Love...

My first friend, my last love

oh the days without you

I tremble your touch like ecstasy

though I will never feel it again

I sit by the window 

longing for your gentle face

hurled by the wind  

I struggle to wait

as my frail body weakens

I drift into a deep sleep

Now I am left on this lonely island to die

I shall not awaken

until I find your touch

in the dreams and splendor

upon heavens gate 

line 26  from "The Forsaken" by Duncan Campbell Scott first underlined sentence.
line 9 from "Wabanaki Song" by  Trans. Charles G Leland second underlined sentence.

Loneliness...